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The Recognition of
Our true Identity..
An Identity
Which does not
Depend on anything
External to that
Which precedes and
Penetrates all that we
Know and do...
In which
We perceive the divisions
Reinforcing our lifelong
Beliefs in separation as
The reality of our lives..
Flowers on gravestones
Solemn speeches in
Patriotic fervor..marking
Wars by participants who
Assumed without question
These same beliefs..

How do the beliefs fare
In this time of infection..?
In which we see a
Disregard of separation
By boundaries or race..
Is there a crack
Beginning to open..?
Exposing a newfound
Eternal Memorial
Of Peace and
Is the key
To Peace and Joy..
To accept what's here
And now..but then
To attend to rising
Regrets and wishes
With the recognition
These are also made
Of Acceptance...
The flow of blood
Bears the oxygen from
The our
Sustenance to extend the
Lifetime of each organism.. this a flow within activity
Made of Consciousness..
Our conditioning most often
Selects the first option
Overlooking this One..

So..our new paradigm of
Suggests both options
The flow of blood and
Oxygen delivery as
Appearances within
In Grey's Anatomy..!

Freedom at last
From grasping illusions..
CharlesC May 16
There is a
Seeming permanence in
Pikes Peak..we see photos
From a century past and
What stood then stands now..
Yet..geologically we are told
The Peak is doomed to crumble
Rendering it's permanency
As temporary..and taking a
Place beside the Lilac..
Readily known as short-lived..
But Nature Herself stands
Proclaiming Her Silence
Within which Peak and Lilac
Enter and depart..
To the airy king
Subjects of perdition bow.
Breathing in their fate.
  May 15 CharlesC
I sip on my green tea
wishing for it to cleanse me.
Wishing for it, to cleanse out the oils and the misery I consume.
Wishing for it to break down my toxins.
Wishing for it ... to cleanse the sections of myself that even I cannot reach.

Green Tea

A substance that supposedly detoxes the belly, but not strong enough to detox the soul

Not strong enough to take away my shadows, my doubt, my ego or my woes.
A drink, not strong enough to hug my spirit at its loneliest hours.
Yet, I sip
.. praying the wet herbs that tickle my tongue shall unlock the gateway, or the path, or the door... to my soul.

So I sip...
And sip...
And sip...

Swallowing it’s brew...and my tears.
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